Jack let out another chuckle, though this one was less cheerful and creaky and instead dry. Very very dry. If Jack had been paying attention to his steps, maybe he wouldn't be in this pickle.

"It's been a while. You know, this reminds me of a story a friend of mine told me." He turned to gesture to Ginko as he walked and talked. "He haunted a house in a place called Maine and when people would try to move in, he would have them forget themselves. They would go mad in that house and no matter where they turned, the front door would always be right there. They could go no deeper into the house than the foyer."

He brought a bony finger to his chin.

"No one would do that to me, of course. That would be stupid."